


His Trick, His Treat.

by EbonyMortisRose



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha Geoffrey, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Geoffrey gets to have fun, Halloween Smut, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reid turned human, Rope Bondage, Sexual use of mezmerisum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:16:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27308335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EbonyMortisRose/pseuds/EbonyMortisRose
Summary: McCullum discovers a medallion amongst the still to be sorted junk ‘borrowed’ from the brotherhood of St Paul's stole. It allows a ‘monster’ to become human from midnight all hallows eve to the witching hour 3 am the next day. He could use it on himself but where would be the fun in that? It's time to put his leech in his place.
Relationships: Geoffrey McCullum/Jonathan Reid
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57





	His Trick, His Treat.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second attempt at smut. I have never written two guys before but love McReid and just had to write this idea. I know it's bad lol.

“Trick o’ treat?” - McCullum's unmistakable Irish brogue whispered in Jonathan's ear.  
Those three little words held such mischief, he couldn't help but smile. But his amusement was short-lived as he opened his eyes to look at his hunter; whose presence he felt crouched over him on the bed.  
When he was greeted, to his confusion, by blackness. He could only just make out the silhouette of the man knelt over him, and to his puzzlement could not make out any facial features.  
He then had a growing, unnerving feeling, like he was being stared at by a predator. Which was nonsense he thought. He was the wolf in doctor's clothing. He was the beast others should fear. And yet, he still couldn't shake this feeling.  
And as the last tendrils of sleep loosened their hold, and he began to regain his sensibilities, fuelled by his growing unwarranted anxiety. He realised his hands were bound to either side of what he assumed to be the bedposts of the bed he was now laying in.  
He did not like this feeling of being pinned down prey, and so opened up his senses to ascertain what his progeny was up to, - and got nothing. He might as well have been staring into the face of a statue.  
He then tried to slip his vision into the hunter's spectrum. But that too didn't work. What was wrong with his eyes he wondered?  
He then shivered, as a draft from somewhere ghosted across his naked body. Followed by a strange prickling sensation, as goosebumps erupted along his flesh.  
It was a sensation he had almost forgotten. He was cold, he realised to his amazement. But that was impossible!  
As his mounting anxiety increased, he then began to take in stuttering short breaths, - breaths...My god, he was breathing! He was cold, and he was actually breathing; and there, under the sound of his increasingly rapid breathing. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He was alive!  
  
Geoffrey knelt over Jonathan on all fours like an incubus, naked, eagerly waiting for his victim to slowly realise he was trapped beneath him, and at his mercy.  
He had never known Jonathan as a living fragile man and was eager to begin his exploration of every inch of his body.  
As ekons, they had no regard for gentle administrations. Any damage done during their previous animalistic encounters quickly healed. And even though there was that bond between them of Progeny and Maker, that literally let them experience what it was like to be under each other's skin as they fucked. There was still a numbing of some senses, a product of the cold undead aspect of their forms.  
He would have to remember to restrain himself, he didn't want to break his little human after all he mused.  
A wolfish grin then spread across his face, as he watched the pulsing red form beneath him begin to take in quick panicked breaths. His seductive heartbeat rang in his ears, and it was so tempting to give in to its call and sink his aching fangs into his neck. He even began to tilt his head towards that throbbing artery, when Jonathan gasped out.  
  
“Geoffrey, I'm alive. How is this possible?”  
  
The bed creaked as Geoffrey moved one hand up, and tapped a metal disc that Jonathan only then realised was attached to a cord around his neck.  
“Found that amongst other shite we ‘borrowed', from tha brotherhood. Wasn’t sure it would work. Said on tha piece o' paper that was in tha box wi it that it turns a monster into a man, from midnight all Hallows eve, ta tha witchin hour. That bein three o’clock.”  
  
Jonathan spluttered, trying to get the multitude of questions he had into some semblance of order out of his mouth. “My god! Think of the possibilities. We need to study this miraculous item!”  
  
“Oh, don't ya be worrying doc, I intend ta study its effects.” - Geoffrey then partly extended his claws, and barely touching the surface of the man's flesh he slowly dragged his fingers down through Jonathan's fine chest hair. Raking his nails over his taut abs and down to the nest of hair, that led to his currently flaccid manhood.  
He then ran those same deadly claws up and down the warm shaft, coaxing it to rise to attention. “Tell mi, how does that feel?” - Geoffrey purred.  
  
Jonathan began to squirm on the bed, and took in a sudden breath, as he felt Geoffrey's thumb rub over the sensitive head of his cock. His hand was cold and clammy as it took hold of him and gently began to slowly stroke him.  
He’d asked a question, he then remembered and gasped out. “Good...but...Mmmm…”  
As his rhythm increased, he couldn't stop his hips twitching wanting more of that sweet friction. But though this felt so good, one nagging thought came to the forefront of his mind. And he tried to ask it without moaning.  
“G...Geoffrey, you could have...worn this.” - He swallowed another groan, then continued. “You c...could have spent time with your men.”  
  
Geoffrey then lent down and kissed Jonathan's searing hot lips, and encouraged his mouth to open with his probing tongue.  
Jonathan obliged, and as his moist tongue glided around Geoffrey's, he was sure he could taste something. It was reminiscent of licking a piece of cutlery. Metallic. Bitter; - It was blood.  
Apparently Geoffery had fed before waking him, clearly prepping his body for whatever he had planned, he realised.  
His hunter then pulled back slightly, allowing their tongues to flick and dance against each other, as he continued to stroke his rapidly hardening member.  
He then mumbled against his lips. “Do ya want mi ta stop?”  
  
The scientist in him screamed yes, this was not the practical way to study such a fantastical object. But the lustful, primal man in him cried out with a hot moan. “N...noooo!”  
  
Geoffery grinned, and gave those hot tender lips one last bruising kiss, before trailing more down Jonathan's chin. Then, nuzzling his neck, his tongue flicked out trailing kisses along the throbbing artery there. Again he had to fight the burning desire within him to sink his fangs into the delicate flesh and drink his fill of that hot nectar, that was so tantalizingly close to the surface.  
Instead, he moved on, following a particular vein across his collar bone, down his chest, and ending at one of his nipples.  
Still rhythmically stroking his human. He extended his fangs and scored the tip of one along its tender nub. This elicited a short hiss from Johnathan, that turned into a groan as he began to nip and suck the hardening bud.  
The blood that swirled into his mouth was unmistakeably Johnathan's. Rich and heady. But it had changed, it no longer had the vampiric spice to it. Now it tasted more like sweet wine, and he now understood why John craved his when he was human.  
He growled as the blood sent him on a euphoric high, and he couldn't help lowering his body and begin to rut his own hardening cock against Johns writhing thigh.  
Then stealing himself, he reluctantly pulled away, lapping up one last tiny red jewel, before continuing his descent down his human's body.  
He shuffled in between his legs, trailing kisses as he moved. Occasionally licking his lips and tasting the salt that was coming to the surface with the sweat.  
When he reached the tight nest of hair, just above Johns now rock hard manhood, he could detect a new scent. Johns living scent. It was musky, with hints of his cologne and an earthy smell close to Sandlewood.  
Jonathan was a well-endowed man, and unlike his own cock his still had its sheath. He wondered if that little fold of skin gave more friction, more pleasure, and whispered devilishly. “I hope your still taken notes. Tell mi, how does this feel?”  
Before he could even let the man reply, he ran his tongue over the weeping slit. Tasting the salty precum and hummed.

All Jonathan could do was gasp, as he felt Geoffrey's cold tongue run down his shaft, then back up to the sensitive tip. He felt like he should say something, anything. But the waves of pleasure that were rippling up his spine from his groin were short-circuiting his brain, leaving no room for rational thought. He was then about to really try to say something coherent when Geoffrey swallows him whole.  
  
Not needing to breath had its advantages, and this was one of them. Geoffery took Jonathan deep into the back of his throat. Then slowly rose up, back to the sensitive tip. Making sure not to catch the pulsing member with his fangs.  
His lips encased the girth of it, creating a delicious salty seal, and the precum lubricated his way, as he began to move his head up and down.  
  
The ropes creaked as Johnathan pulled against them, wanting to get his hands free. Wanting to get hold of Geoffrey's head and force him to go faster. But the restraints held, so instead as the pressure began to build in his groin, he began to buck up into his mouth.  
  
Geoffery continued to glide up and down johns shaft, watching with hungry eyes as his heart began to beat faster and faster. His breathing also started to become ragged, and the sweet scent of sweat began to permeate the air, as beads broke out across his writhing body.  
He doesn't need to have that mental link to know he is close. But he wasn't ready for this to be over just yet. And as johns panting breaths begin to hitch, and his thighs tremble. He suddenly lifts his mouth away from his cock and squeezes the base. Growling out _**“Do not come until I say so!”**_  
  
The command hits Johnathan like a physical blow, and he lets out a cry of desperation and tugs on his restraints. Feeling Geoffery's vice-like grip on the base of his cock, he tries futilely to move his hips, to grind up into the hold. Wanting that sweet friction to begin again. “Please Geoffery.” - He whines. “Don’t do this to me.”  
  
Geoffery just sniggers, loving how easy this was. Revelling in the fact that the mighty Jonathan Reid, Champion of London, was now reduced to a puppet for his pleasure.  
He then sits back on his knees and reaches across for a bottle of oil on a nearby nightstand, and generously coats his hands and his own now ridged cock in the slick liquid.  
Then he strokes himself once more whilst looking down at his whimpering maker, then gently directs him to part his legs and climbs in between them.  
  
Only relying on his sense of touch was maddening to Jonathan. He realised now how he had taken his other heightened sense for granted, and grunted with frustration at how pitifully weak his living self was. Not even able to snap simple rope.  
He wanted to break free. Wanted to grab his hunter and make him finish what he started; and when he felt him let go of him, and the bed creak as he fumbled in the dark with something. He couldn't help but pathetically whine. “Geoffrey?”  
  
Geoffery replied with actions, not words. As he ran one hand up and down Johns thick veiny shaft, whilst stroking his middle finger around his back entrance with the other. He then slowly inserted the digit into the warm tight hole and began to move his finger, slick with oil, back and forth in time with his hand.  
  
Jonathan grunted when he felt the cold intrusion, but when it began to move in and out and Geoffery's thumb ran over the top of his cock head, then grip him once more and begin a maddeningly slow rhythm. He couldn't help but tilt his head back and moan. When a second finger was added, and the pace increased, his hips began to buck again. Now writhing on the bed, denied the sweet release he craved. He turned his face into his pillow and clench the case between his teeth, trying to take out the mounting need on something, but all it did was stifling his stuttering groans.  
  
When Jonathan started to push down onto him, he knew he was ready, and stroking himself once more he purred. “Do you want mi ma little helpless human?”  
  
With the pillowcase still clamped between his teeth, Johnathan can only frantically nod and prayed to all the gods his hunter could see the movement.  
  
Geoffrey then removed his fingers and moved Johns legs so that they are over each of his shoulders. He then shuffled forward and lined himself up with his twitching wet hole.  
When he does slowly sink in, he's surprised at how warm it is. The heat engulfs his hard uncut cock, and he can't help let out his own slow moan of pleasure.  
He then stays like that for a moment, letting his human catch his breath, remembering he had to be careful. As much as he wanted to ravish the man he didn't want to hurt him.  
He then watched as Jonathan began to relax, and panting, let go of the pillowcase. He also noted as his breathing began to calm, that his heart still beat out a frantic beat.  
Once he was sure his human was not going to pass out he then slid his hands around and grabbed the sides of his hips and began to slide slowly in and out of his warmth. God, he felt so good he thought.  
  
It wasn't long before Johnathan was back to panting, but even with his breath being pounded out of him he managed to hoarsely say. “Y...you know in some circles. Aaaa...this could be classed as necrophilia...aaaa!”  
  
Geoffrey give a wicked grin and replied. “Na, not when tha corpse is fucking you. And I’d command ye ta stop talking, but I want ta hear ya moan. And ya seem ta be able to still form sentences I can't be havin that.”  
Geoffrey then looks down past the pulsing red heat of johns cock, that was slapping against his stomach with every thrust he administered. And found that special little cluster of nerves, and ground down on to them.  
  
The result was instantaneous, as Jonathan cried out; “Fuuuck!”- as his back arched off the bed. Causing the ropes at his wrists to creek again in protest.  
  
“D-Doctor Reid, tsk, tsk. Such language...is not becoming of a gentleman.” - Geoffery said. his own words beginning to stutter as he felt his own pleasure mounting.  
But now that he knew where that pressure point was, he ground down onto it each time, relentless. Until no words could be formed, and the only sound that came out of either of their lips was Johns illegible grunts and his own growls.  
  
Geoffrey was so close now, and a red mist had descended over his eyes as the building pressure in his groin grew.  
Johns body was now coated in a fine sheen of sweat and white flecks had started to encroach on the edges of his vision. He knew it was because he was hyperventilating, he knew if this continued he was going to either pass out, or have a heart attack, and so taking in a large trembling breath he cried out. “Please..oh god G...Geoffrey please!”  
  
And with a deep throaty growl, Geoffrey commanded. _**“Come for me!”** _  
  
And with a cry his human obeyed, back arching so much Geoffrey was nearly pulled out of him. Johns cock twitched as his seaman spat out like a small fountain, painting his stomach in sticky white strands.  
Geoffrey soon followed, gripping his human's hips, pushing himself deep inside. And as the crash of the orgasm hit, whiting out his vision. He threw back his head and let out a loud moan, exposing the full length of his fangs.  
He shuck as his bloody seed emptied into that warm spasming cavity, and then he slowly began to move in and out, pumping every last bit of himself into Johnathan. Claiming him.  
  
Jonathan shuddered with the aftershocks and closed his useless eyes to better bask in the warm tingling feeling that ran from his crotch, up his spine, and across his brain. He felt as weak as a kitten and didn't even have the strength to move his legs out of the way when Geoffrey with a squelching sound pulled out of him. Instead, he just let him lower them to the bed then proceed to climb up him. Noting that his body felt like ice against his fevered skin.  
  
Geoffrey climbed up johns sticky torso and then collapsed next to him, and cupped his flushed face in his hand and kissed him tenderly.  
The room was filled with the intoxicating scent of blood, mixed with the living scent of sex that was usually missing from any of their previous sessions. Geoffrey liked lt and realised he didn't have his own body odour anymore, this was all Jonathan.  
The essence of the man he loved, and he wished he could preserve that. But sadly he knew time was not on their side. So, savouring the taste of him, he lazily deepened the kiss.  
  
Jonathan hummed into the kiss with contentment, then he pulled back and said. “You know you almost gave me a heart attack?”  
  
Geoffrey sniggered. “Can ya think of a better way to go?”  
  
Jonathan flicked out his tongue, and ran it over Geoffrey's bottom lip, then leant forward and mumbled into the kiss. “Not right now, no.”  
  
He felt Geoffrey grin against his lips then rumble out. “Well, we’ll av ta rectify that. Ya up for more experimentation?”  
  
Jonathan chuckled “For science?”  
  
“Aye, for science.”


End file.
